Can you light my shadows?
by Rushi no Ryuu
Summary: Maybe it's just a phase. Maybe it's his past that starts haunting him again. Maybe he needs someone to be there for him at times. But maybe, it's something he's never known before. Shizaya.
1. Chapter 1

He did nothing, but saved me anyway

**A/N: I haven't written Shizaya in _ages_, so here you go. **

Izaya bit his fingernails. Not again. He stood up carefully, trying not to make too much noise, very slowly looked around the room. Nothing suspicious caught his attention, yet he couldn't help but feel very uneasy.

The feeling that had been coming up the last few months was knocking at his door again, and no matter how often it happened, he could never get used to it.

A certain nervousness started to weave its web around his heart and mind, making him flinch at the slightest sound, never allowing him to feel safe.

He knew this already. This nervous jumpiness that always crept in when there was a deadly silence in his office, when the sun started to set and the darkness overpowered the city. The shadows started coming out and all kinds of people that didn't dare to go out at daytime were walking through the streets. The city was dangerous by now, no mother would let her kid play outside anymore, the shops closed and more suspicious places opened, for their customers at night.

It gave him the chills, made him feel cold and alone, this feeling that consisted of old memories and new experiences, mixed together and all sent straight through the small point in his brain that was capable of being scared.

It made him feel weak and sent him back to that time again when he thought he wouldn't survive the next day. That time when he'd stolen and robbed for money and food and survival, driven by reasons he wouldn't dare to call reasons anymore.

But that had just been his life. Running through empty streets, hiding in the shadows from all kinds of people unknown to him, people he didn't particularly wanted to start a relationship with in the first place.

Yes, Izaya had once lived on the streets. He used to go to fast food places, steal money from people and occasionally even robber someone.

He'd never hurt anybody physically, except for the few times he'd gotten into fights, and at those occasions, it had been mainly him who got hurt. They left a few scars all over his body and soul, which was the reason why he wore jeans even when it was thirty degrees and burning sunshine.

He didn't want to be reminded of his past in any way.

It had been terrible, and no one knew how thankful he was for the apartment and the opportunities he had in his business because of his experience with all kinds of people and secrets.

Sometimes, his knowledge of how it was to live every day without knowing if you will still be allowed tomorrow came in handy. That was a good word.

He hadn't been allowed at that time. People like him were the people that normal humans feared and wanted to disappear and hid their kids from. They were unwanted in society and society was right about that for once, the world would be a better place without those men and women who tried to live, but couldn't afford to keep the rules in mind.

In those years, he'd faced all kinds of dangers and it was also how he'd met the people that helped him gather information now. It was his only hope that those three years had actually paid off at least a little bit, that all those nights he'd spent shivering and alone and – he hated to admit it today – scared, hadn't been for nothing.

It had been a terrible time and the information broker didn't really wanted to be reminded of this chapter in his life, but his mind brought up the memories every time it was quiet and dark because he had nothing else to think about.

Well, except one thing.

It mildly surprised him that at times like this a certain blonde brute came to his mind. It hadn't always been like this, maybe for the past five months or so, he couldn't remember that clearly.

But it was nice. The thought of this man set him at ease, despite the irony it held. He sat in his room, was scared and jumpy for nothing and thinking about his worst enemy and the most annoying and dumb creature on earth was helping?

At least the ex-bartender hadn't known him back then. Yes, they went to the same school once, but during those years, their contact broke off and Izaya had been surprised (in a positive and negative way at the same time) when the blonde had suddenly showed up in his life again, and although they'd done nothing but fighting and chasing, he made his life much better.

Shizuo had offered a safe place to him, a place where he could be completely lost in the rush of chasing him through the streets, feeling adrenaline gush through his veins, those minutes of the day were theirs and theirs alone.

No one could interfere with their little world of brutality, unreleased anger and hidden sadness at that time, although Izaya was pretty sure the blonde had never experienced things like he had.

He'd probably lived a happy, peaceful life with occasional flying signs or cars passing by. It made him chuckle, how Shizuo was so oblivious and even kind of innocent – he'd never had a girlfriend, as far as he knew – despite he was tending to be that brutal at certain times.  
>Yet he refused to believe it was possible that the thought of the blonde alone made him feel comfortable in this way, at least he wanted to believe that, but his mind knew better.<p>

He started curling up in his blankets, turning off the computer screen and noticed how dark it already was. It had to be past midnight, it was rare for him to go to bed earlier than eleven o'clock, yet it sent a shiver down his spine that he was practically a victim of the night now.

Yet another thing that occurred quite often. He wasn't scared of the dark, not the dark itself, but rather the knowledge that literally anything could happen to him right now.

In this place, Izaya Orihara never knew. Nobody ever knew for sure what was going on in his life, not even he himself. How was he supposed to know if he couldn't even assume that he was safe in his apartment?

Although he knew everything about this city, there were certain areas that had managed to stay unreachable for him, he had no idea what was looking for him in the shadows, who would suddenly jump out and would want revenge for something he'd done a few years ago.

It scared him – at this point, he would be honest for once – it frightened him to the bone, he was the unknown king of this city, but when someone had the idea to fight him face to face (well, besides Shizuo – that brute was too stupid for his own good), he couldn't stand a chance. When it came to physical, pure strength, he couldn't really hope to get out alive – he wouldn't dare to dream of escaping a fight uninjured.

He would be weak, helpless, a victim.

Unless Shizuo saved him.

He blinked, confused. Where did that come from? He frowned and shook his head while undressing and getting into an old shirt that served as a pajama. But it was actually not the first time his mind suggested something ridiculous like that.

And, strangely but not unsettling, a warmth spread in his body and relaxed his mind. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, while Shizuo's face appeared before his inner eye.

Yeah. That was a thing he could rely on. No matter what, Shizuo would always be his enemy. Always had been, always will be. Nothing could change that, not even the most brutal fight, Izaya wasn't sure if even death could tear them apart.

Honestly, he didn't wish it could. That sounded good. Shizuo, being his enemy forever and for eternity, never leaving his side.

It immediately calmed him down, although his heart was beating as fast as before, if not faster. He yawned and tried to sleep, but images and memories from his past kept him from doing so. They were running wild in his head, making his hand clench into the blanket and his eyes squeeze shut.

Teeth tensed up and bit on each other until it hurt, a shivering hand pressed down on his chest and felt his heart beat irrationally fast.

_Shizuo. Think of Shizuo. Breathe. Relax. _

It worked, thank the heavens. A small smile tugged at his lips when he could practically feel the brute's arms wrapped around him, pulling him close and those thoughts slowly and gently led him to the world of dreams.

It was weird, but if Shizuo was the only thing preventing him from freaking out at night, it would be okay.

When he woke up the next morning, the sun was already shining through his closed curtains, creating a dim light in the room.

The fear from the previous evening was gone, all that was left was his heartbeat, steady and slow inside his chest.

Had he really slept that long? A glance at his alarm clock told him that it was far past 9 o'clock and that he had to hurry the fuck up if he wanted to get some work done before Namie arrived. He got up, showered, got dressed, ate a little bit, brushed his teeth and turned on his computer as fast as he could. With a sigh, he let himself sink into the chair in front of his desk, taking a sip from his tea.

It was rare that he overslept, this was the first time in six months, to be exact.

But oh well, another day in front of his screen was awaiting him, he was checking chatrooms, heard the local news, replied to some emails, did some phone calls, the usual stuff.

Namie arrived sometime around noon, her usual timing for showing up and annoying him with the fact that she was actually useful. She was working in the other room, so they didn't really meet during their work, but she would send mails to him almost every hour, providing him with additional information.

All while doing his work, only half of his brain was paying attention. Fortunately, that was enough, but it still annoyed and confused him why the other half was so occupied with thoughts of a certain blonde. If was enough that the blonde was the only thing that kept him safe at night, he was already a little embarrassed at that fact, but at daytime?

Couldn't he find something better to think about? Apparently not. His clients, his past, Shinra, Namie, Celty, Shizuo. That was pretty much everything Izaya Orihara knew, and he knew better than thinking about his work while he was doing other work, or starting to think about his past even at daytime.

He spent the whole day jotting down phone numbers, addresses, pieces of information and random drawings on his notebook, and here and there were sneaking some kanji in his notes that didn't belong there. It was needless to say that they spelled "Shizuo Heiwajima" or "Shizu-chan", something along those lines. He even found himself thinking about how it would sound if he'd call the other one "Shizuo-san" for a day or so, just for fun, just to see his reaction. It would be … interesting.

That's right, his reactions were always interesting. He was relying on instinct and pure willpower more than anybody else the raven knew, all while being so brutal and violent, although he supposedly hated violence.

The funny thing about Shizuo was that Izaya knew he had a soft core. He cared about his brother and Celty and the raven knew that he really hated violence. It had eaten his enemy up in middle school that he couldn't control his violence and strength and he wished to be normal for once.

This guy made no sense at all, but at the same time, it was all Izaya needed for investigating him. Maybe it was a tiny, pathetic excuse, but it was the only excuse he needed to reassure himself that he was only investigating and not doing something else.

He was only doing research because his reactions were interesting. Nothing more and nothing less.

Namie came in, refusing to knock at his door like she always did. Polite as ever. She slumped down a huge amount of paperwork on his desk and left without a word.

He didn't bother to say thank you. They knew that it would be illogical for the raven to be grateful for her services, he paid her well and she didn't have to expect such friendly words.

Just mails and occasional theories about something going on in the city, those were the only thing they exchanged during the whole day.

When she stood in the doorway, she looked over her shoulder back at him and her gaze met his and she said "Don't you think about him a little too much?"

Izaya was confused, until he realized that she must have seen his notes on the little book and post-its and sheets of paper lying around everywhere and a little blush rose to his cheeks.

She had seen it. This was a little embarrassing, sure, but it was his business and she had no rights to mess with it. Right?

He wanted to protest, but she already left, she'd left him alone with his thoughts and unsorted feelings.

A sigh escaped his mouth and the information broker rested his forehead against his palm. Another headache was starting to pop up in his head and bothered his thoughts for quite a while, but it wasn't heavy enough to be a reason for taking pills yet because Izaya didn't really have intentions of ruining his body, so it was just plain annoying.

_Am I really thinking about him that much? _He asked himself while trying to filter some kind of important stuff out of the paperwork Namie gave him.

That woman had always been sharp when it came to those things, but to judge his thoughts simply by some kind of childish doodles... she had some nerve. And since when had she been interested in his private life anyway? All she cared about was her brother.

It was weird that Namie pretended to know better about his own feelings than him, but when it came to feelings, he was oblivious and unknowing because he'd never experienced such things in his life.

He wanted to believe he was just fooling himself in this whole deal and that it wasn't what he thought it was, that he wasn't developing some kind of feelings for the other man.

But deep down, he knew she was right, and it was frustrating and scary, but it helped him at night, so it had to be okay.

Right?

Would it be bad if he actually started to feel something besides this strange addiction to fight with him towards the other man? Would it be accepted?

Probably not, but what could he do _if _it happened? Nothing, right?

A human had to accept his feelings, no matter in which direction they were going.

While he was thinking about Shizuo, obviously all kinds of imagines of Shizuo flashed in front of his inner eye, distracting him every time.

A silent curse fell from his lips when thoughts were running through his mind, he couldn't stop them but he wasn't sure if he _wanted _them to stop. They were racing backwards and then in the opposite direction and he never got to see them fully, but he knew what kind of images and feelings it would be, and it scared him, but it also sent a little pleasurable shiver down his spine and a tiny smile tugged at his lips when he felt his heartbeat getting faster.

Paperwork could wait for now, he had to figure out something else.

**A/N: So, I'm starting a new Shizaya thing... I have seriously no idea how I should continue or even end this, so it might take very different amounts of time to update it. But I promise I'll be fast. This one is a little short because it's a kind of prologue. Don't worry, you'll get more in the next chapters. **

**Also, cheesy title is cheesy. Lemme alone. **

**Please tell me how I did in the reviews! **


	2. Chapter 2

Can you light my shadows?

**A/N: Thanks to my friend, who gave me some wonderful ideas on how to continue this thing, I got to write another chapter. Hope you like it and leave a review, please! Also, beware of POV changes this time. **

_Shizuo's POV_

The blonde's day had been peaceful so far.

That was, until his cellphone rang. It was an unknown number, and he considered for a minute to let it ring – after all, he wasn't really interested in buying anything or something like that. But it could also be something important. He picked up the call and her ever-so-calm, but annoying voice reached his ears.

"Hello, Shizuo-san. My name is Namie Yagiri, I'm Izaya Orihara's secretary. How's your day going?"

Although the blonde was surprised – why was Izaya's secretary suddenly calling him? He knew the raven had one, but he didn't even knew her name. The blonde cleared his throat.

"Pretty well, thank you. May I ask why you are calling?" At least, she couldn't just randomly call him.

"Yeah, I actually wanted to ask you a favor. Could you come over and look if Izaya is alright for some time?" The blonde paused on his way on the sidewalk. This was unusual. First, Namie was never concerned about the raven. Second, she should assume that he was neither. So why did she ask him to "look after Izaya"?

"Why is that?" The woman on the other side of the line started to speak again.

"Well, you see, he's been kinda out of it lately. He's doodling your name all over his notes, so I figured it might have something to do with you, sorry if I'm wrong." Shizuo blew a small cloud of smoke into the air. _He's doodling my name? _Namie continued, apparently, she wasn't finished yet. "Also, he's been murmuring your name when he fell asleep on his desk today." Shizuo almost laughed. Izaya falling asleep during work? That was like the earth suddenly stopping to move. But it seemed like even the devious information broker had something like a human side.

"Yeah, I have nothing to do anyway..."

"That's very nice of you, Shizuo-san. I'll leave in about half an hour because my work here ends at seven o'clock, and I wanted to make sure he's alright."

"Why that? Do you care about him that much?" He heard a low chuckle that seemed to be held back a bit, probably Izaya was in the next room. Namie lowered her voice before she answered: "I fear my salary is going to drop if he's not himself."

The blonde softly tapped his cigarette on a small wall beside him. That made sense.

Probably he should make his way to the flea's apartment, since he was currently in the middle of the city and Izaya's apartment was in the outer boroughs. He took the metro to get to the flea's house, noticing on the way that he'd never been there; he only knew the address.

When he arrived at the office complex, a young woman with straight black hair approached him. Namie. He'd seen her only a few times, because, well, she worked for his enemy.

"Good evening, Shizuo-san. Here is a key and my phone number, if something should be wrong. If you need anything, just call me. It's Friday, so I won't work tomorrow and the day after."

Shizuo nodded quietly, suddenly becoming aware of the awkwardness of the whole situation. Here he was, supposedly trying to … kind of help his worst enemy. Well, more like his fight-companion. He'd never really considered them enemies.

He swallowed, taking the things Namie gave him and told her goodbye. Before he took a step in the direction of the building, he saved her number in his phone, put it in his pocket and adjusted the black tie.

She seemed like a nice woman, Izaya had never really talked about her. But well, they were _fighting_, what did he expect? That Izaya would tell him his whole life while dodging signs, cars and vending machines?

He chuckled to himself, threw the cigarette on the sidewalk and opened Izaya's door.

The hallway was quiet, clean and smelled like a mixture of vinegar and artificial colors. Nothing unusual for an office/apartment complex in the middle of Ikebukuro.

According to the signs outside the door, Izaya's apartment was on the very top, with access to the roof. It kind of fit him.

The blonde raised a fist and hesitantly knocked at the door, marked with a single piece of tape that had "Orihara" written on it, in a pretty clumsy handwriting.

No one answered. He knocked again, this time louder. When still no answer came, he considered knocking the door down, then his hand met the key in his pocket.

Several keys, to be exact. There were signs attached to every one of them, spelling "basement", "roof", "Izaya's room" (the flea locked his room?) and finally "apartment front door".

The key fit perfectly, but what had he expected? Very carefully not to knock anything down or disturb, the blonde took a step inside the room. It seemed to be a little corridor, with the famous jacket on a small knob in the wall, various pairs of shoes and umbrellas.

No sign of anything devilish, creepy or unlike the flea. The doors weren't labeled, but judging by the little mirror and the light switch outside the room, the room at the very end seemed to be a bathroom. He'd rather not walk in there and instead decided on the first to the right.

He carefully opened it, arriving in what looked like his office.

His sense of policy started to sting him when he considered taking a peek at some of the papers as he walked around the room slowly. It was very neat, everything had a place, but nothing was labeled in any way. Could he tell them all by heart?

At the desk, there was something that looked like a doodling paper of some sort. All kinds of addresses, weird code names, phone numbers and little doodles of chess figures could be found on that paper, as well as – he swallowed hard – his own name. Sometimes underlined, sometimes in a cheesy, princess-like handwriting.

The computer wasn't switched on as well as any other electricity in the room. There was a couch at the other side of the room, with a small table in front of it.

His famous chess figures decorated said table, standing randomly on the board like he'd left in the middle of a game against himself.

The curtains were shut and the room was rather dim light, creating a ghostly atmosphere.

The other room on the right turned out to be some kind of room for all kinds of unneeded paperwork that he didn't want to throw away, accompanied by some other trash.

The final room was the last chance, if he didn't find Izaya there, he was either not here or hiding somewhere in the apartment and had been watching him, and Shizuo wasn't pleased with either of the possibilities.

The room was locked. It took him a while before the keys came to his mind again, before he thought of the one labeled "Izaya's room" again and finally it clicked and he turned the key in the hole.

He entered a room, completely dark, only a simple bed and a wardrobe as well as a small table beside the bed were standing inside of the room.

It was free of any decoration or ornaments, completely plain and simple. As he opened the door, a strand of light fell on the floor, perfectly surrounding a bundle of blankets on the bed.

Shizuo took a deep breath and approached that "bundle", he was pretty sure it was Izaya. When he saw the first strands of raven-black hair, it was confirmed.

Here was the flea, sleeping at eight o'clock – which was not _that _strange, because it was late autumn and already dark as hell – and he … for some reason, Shizuo couldn't just accept the fact that Izaya slept there right in front of him.

They were enemies, for heaven's sake! This was the once-in-a-lifetime-chance, a normal person would kill or at the very least punch them very hard.

But he couldn't do that. The flea looked so vulnerable and tiny, and he shifted in his sleep, causing Shizuo to freeze for a second – had he woken him?

But Izaya's eyes stayed closed, his sleep seemed to be restless and not really good. He kept trashing around and when Shizuo lowered a hand over the raven's forehead, it was hot.

The flea was really not alright, Namie had been right in calling him.

He pulled out his phone, having the feeling he should tell her what was going on. But instead of calling, he texted her instead, not wanting to disturb Izaya.

_You were right, Izaya is sick._

It took her only a few minutes to respond while Shizuo went to the living room-thingy in the other part of the flat, putting down his jacket there.

_Take good care of him, okay? Thank you again!_

He shook his head. Was she expecting him to do this? Well, he had a few weeks off at the moment, it was almost Christmas vacation and the whole city was in a rush.

When he returned, he saw a half-awake flea, hair messed up by the blankets, dressed in boxers and a shirt that was far too big for him, his whole face was flushed and he was panting.

At the sight of Shizuo, he pulled blankets over his body.

"Shizu...chan?"

Even his voice sounded sick.

This wasn't like Izaya, but screw it. He had to take care of that black-haired mess.

"Yup, it's me. Your secretary – Namie? - called me and told me to look after you."

Izaya chuckled, a slightly amused glow flying through his eyes.

"That's just like her... why should you look after me?"

Shizuo cleared his throat. Here came the difficult part.

"She told me that you haven't been yourself and you were... well, acting weird."

Before Izaya could protest, Shizuo made his intentions clear to the young man.

"Just to clarify this, I just take care of you. Nothing more and nothing less. Understood? Good."

_Izaya's POV_

Izaya could do nothing but nod, Shizuo had a very dominating aura and his aura was probably low as fuck right now. Well, he was sick. He'd caught a fever and the headache he had yesterday was probably also the fault of that stupid flu.

Shizuo left the room, probably getting something in the kitchen or something.

The black-haired sighed. How had things ended like this? He wasn't supposed to be looked after by Shizuo! (Although he couldn't really deny the fact that he definitely didn't dislike it. It was more of a surprise-what-am-I-supposed-to-do-oh-my-god-feeling.)

Thinking hurt his head, so he dropped the heavy thoughts and tried to fall asleep again. But the room was starting to become cold because the door was open and Shizuo had left, and suddenly the bed felt so empty and big and a vulnerability crept up to his heart. He was honestly relieved when the blonde returned.

In his hands, Izaya could vaguely see a wet towel, painkillers and some kind of soup. How had he managed to do that in, like, three minutes?

Then again, the soup was one you only needed to warm up and the towels and painkillers were lying pretty obvious on the kitchen desk.

Shizuo pulled a chair out of nowhere and seated himself beside the raven. Said black-haired felt a wet towel being placed on his head – it felt surprisingly good, calming and reassuring him that he wasn't floating off to some kind of creepy fever dream – and a bowl of soup was almost shoved into his face.

He shook his head, attempting to say something, but his throat was dry and he couldn't speak.

"Huh? What was that, flea?"

He tried to gather some saliva in his mouth and made another attempt at speaking: "I'm trying to say that I'm not hungry."

Shizuo sighed, putting the bowl on the table beside his bed.

"At least drink something, alright?"

Izaya nodded, gulping down a sip of water along with the painkillers. They didn't work right away and all he noticed was the weird taste on his tongue.

"Okay, flea. Listen to me."

Shizuo had leaned a bit to the front, their faces only a short distance apart.

"I'm gonna take care of you, but you have to listen and obey to everything I say. Otherwise, I'll leave."

"Does... does that mean you'll stay?"

Shizuo sighed. Apparently, Izaya had hit the nail on the head.

"Yeah, I figured. Unless it's not okay with you, of course. I mean, I don't want to bother you and if you think you'll get better without me, I'm gonna leave."

Izaya softly shook his head and locked eyes with the blonde, crimson meeting amber, staying like that for a few seconds. He didn't have to say that he wanted the blonde to stay, Shizuo knew it anyway.

"Okay. Now that this is settled, where can I sleep?"

Izaya shrugged sheepishly, he didn't really have a place for the brute to sleep.

"I won't sleep on the couch! I tested it already and I could as well sleep on the floor. Seriously, what's the point of a couch if it's not soft?"

Izaya was about to say "Well, I like it when it's hard", but he realized how wrong that sounded and kept the comment to himself.

Speaking of things sounding wrong. He really had nowhere to sleep for Shizuo. He wasn't used to people staying at his apartment, after all. The brute sighed and ran a hand through blond hair.

"I guess I'll have to sleep in your bed then."

Izaya didn't complain. Did he have the right to? This was Shizuo. The man who kept him alive at night, who was keeping him in reality. In the past weeks, the thought of Shizuo's arms wrapping around him had became more and more tempting.

He forced himself to look away while Shizuo was undressing, staying just in his boxers. The blonde lifted the blanket and made himself comfortable under it, in a distance to Izaya that was close, too close for the raven's messed up mind. If he just reached out his hand, he could touch him, but if Shizuo's arms reached out, he could easily pull him close to that warm body, the body whose heat he felt even through the blanket.

"Izaya, you alright?"

The black-haired felt a hand touch his shoulder gingerly, could feel the blonde's eyes piercing into him.

"Y-Yeah... I guess so..." His voice was wavering, shaking, one could easily tell the nervousness that spread in his mind.

"If you need anything, just wake me up. And I will wake you when I notice that you have one of those damned fever dreams, alright?"

The black-haired nodded, registering the similarities of this and the dreams he'd had a few days earlier.

_Shizuo's POV_

The blonde sighed. Izaya really seemed to be out of it... he'd never seen the black-haired so messed up like this. But it was pretty common to catch a flu at a time like this, at least the weather was as bad as weather could possibly be.

Before he went to sleep, he pulled out his phone once again and texted Namie again:

_Izaya's alright, I'm staying the night. Oh and by the way: where did you get my phone number?_

The answer was fast, as usual. A beeping tone along with his display suddenly being lighted up told him Namie was still awake and conscious enough to respond.

He frowned when he read the message.

_It was the top number in Izaya's speed deal. Besides, there was a heart next to your name. _

**A/N: I'll probably involve Namie a lot in this, because I kind of like her. Normally, I would use Celty, but how would she know when Izaya's weird? So it's Namie this time. Hope you liked it, please tell me if you did! **


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